Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

A flutter of anger gave her courage. “Don’t be so certain I’ll just let you take over my life.”

“If you feel you can do no other than attempt to defy me, by all means, you are welcome to do so, but I warn you, I am not an easy man to cross.” His voice was velvet soft, and all the more menacing because of it. There was a hard strength in his fingers as they circled her soft throat.

“Since I’m already afraid of you, that isn’t exactly news, Darius,” she said, her heart thumping in rhythm to her words. “It isn’t as if I haven’t been afraid before.

It isn’t exactly a new experience for me. But I’ve always managed.” She tilted her chin defiantly.

Darius bent his head close, his eyes like glinting ice. “You are afraid of the loss of freedom, Tempest, not of me. You are afraid of the untamed passion in you that rises up to meet the passion in me. It is that, not me, that you fear.”

She pushed at the wall of his chest with both hands. He didn’t budge. “Well, thank you very much for that analysis,” she snapped, all at once stormy. “What would the others think if I told them you were acting this way?” she challenged. “Are they so far under your thumb that they’d help you?”

He shrugged with casual, fluid grace, reminiscent of a leopard stretching. “It would not matter to me one way or the other. It might break up our family, it might cause bloodshed, but in the end, the outcome would be the same. I will not give you up, Tempest.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said rudely, exasperated with him. “There isn’t much to like about me once you get to know me. I’m always in trouble; it just happens. I’ll make you crazy.”

His hand closed over her fragile wrist, his thumb finding her pulse unerringly. “You already make me crazy,” he replied softly. “You will do as I say soon enough, and then I will not have to worry so much.”

“It isn’t going to happen in this lifetime,” she announced, glaring at him. “And as I have only this one, you’re in for a big disappointment.”

His laughter was low and amused, rife with that mocking male superiority that said she would be easy enough to handle. “Come on, honey. The others will be rising soon. We have miles to travel this night to stay on schedule. The cats will need to feed before we go.” He did not add that all of his family would have to do the same. He sensed her deep fear that he wanted her to use for sustenance, that perhaps he intended the rest of them to use her, also. He wanted to reassure her but knew mere words would not help.

He reached down and pulled her to her feet. She was so unexpectedly light for a woman with such an iron will, and he was so enormously strong, he felt he might fling her into the sky if he wasn’t careful.

The moment she was standing, she jerked away, wiping her palms on her jeans, glaring at him. He might rule everyone around him, but she wasn’t about to stand for his nonsense. She wasn’t going to become a food supply for anyone. And she certainly wasn’t going to have some male fantasy figure dominating her life. She might have a penchant for trouble, but she wasn’t stupid.

Darius glanced down at her transparent, expressive little face as they walked back toward the camp. She could not hide her thoughts from him anymore, now that he realized the differences in her mind. His earlier troubles served him right for being so complacent and sure of himself in his dealings with her. She was an unusual mortal, yet he hadn’t considered that he would have to delve deeper than he normally would. Aside from thinking too much, Tempest had an interesting mind, a way of focusing in on one thing only and blocking out everything else.

She stumbled a little, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders despite her little shrug of retreat. By nature, Tempest was accepting of others. She also understood the way animals reasoned, their survival instincts. So it would require her only a step or two to accept the Carpathian way of life.